Baby, it's Cold Outside
by xAnoMollyx
Summary: Short story based on a prompt from the incomparable Nora. It's cold and Beca and Jesse are stuck! Jeca all the way
1. Chapter 1

**Dedicated to Miss CuticleCareENetwork because she is amazing and I loves her.**

**Chapters will be short!**

Jesse is, Beca decides begrudgingly, like a cat. Disarmingly cute-adorable, even-and able to lure people into believing he was harmless with his smiles and playful attitude. But there are claws-**_and fangs, _**she gasps inwardly when he nips roughly at her shoulder-hidden beneath the surface...

* * *

It's 5:15 pm when Jesse finally pulls open the car door, a blast of frosty air invading the cab of Beca's car.

"It's no use," he groans, plunking down dejectedly into the worn out passenger seat and pulling the door closed. "We're stuck. Fucking stuck." Beca groans and she drops her forehead to the top rim of the steering wheel.

"This can _not_ be happening," she grumbles. This was supposed to be a fun, relaxing weekend at Benji's family cabin. One final hurrah, their last Spring Break together before Senior year ended and they all went their separate ways for college. So Beca, her cousin Stacy, and her two best friends, Benji and Jesse, decided that they would spend Thursday through Sunday out at the cabin. It would be three nights of celebrating their departure from adolescence and their take off into Adulthood...which they planned to do by getting drunk off of whatever alcohol Jesse's older brother would buy for them.

March was a, typically, mild month for weather-usually bringing temperatures in the mid 50s with slightly overcast skies and sweeping wind that still carried a ghost of winter's bite to it. Indeed, Monday and Wednesday morning had been exactly that. But, the spring time weather for this Spring Break had not held out and by the time Wednesday night had rolled around it was a drizzling, frigid throwback to the winter that Beca and her friends had been trying to shake off.

"I told you this would happen," Jesse sighs, shaking his head. "After all of this rain, these dirt roads turn to mush. It's no wonder we got stuck."

**_'Mush' is putting it mildly, _**Beca thinks to herself sourly. The road was slicker than snot-as Beca's mother was fond of saying-and after fighting her steering wheel and cursing her not very effective four wheel drive, Beca's poor car had lost its battle with the sloping mud and had slid, ass first, off the road and into a three foot ditch off the side. Just six miles from the cabin. And no amount of pushing and rocking the car, or moving the steering wheel and cursing had gotten it unstuck.

"Well then, how did Stacy and Benji manage to make it?" Beca whines, tightening her grip on the steering wheel and raising her head to focus her glare at him.

"Because they were in Stacy's Chevy 4x4. Not this crappy Toyota Land Cruiser from the 1980s," Jesse offers, shrugging in the face of her hostility. He has long since gotten used to her laser like glare. Beca watches as he bends over and begins to tug his mud caked boots off of his feet, moving them further under the dash, before reaching up to the heat/AC controls to switch it to blow oh his poor, nearly frozen feet. Beca returns her gaze down to her lap when she realizes that she is no longer glaring at him, but simply staring…at the lines of his profile…at the unruly brown curls peeking out from the bottom of his red slouchy beanie…at his soft…kissable looking lips… **_Fuck! Stop staring, you idiot. He's gonna think you're some kind of weirdo_**. She sighs quietly. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Benji and Stacy had ridden together, heading out early to get the cabin aired out and to unpack the food and drinks for the weekend, thus giving Beca the perfect excuse to offer Jesse a ride and then she could finally maybe admit that she has kinda had a crush on him since eighth grade...sorta...like, a lot...okay, she's fucking head over heels for him and she totally wants to take his virginity...with her own...virginity. **_Uuuuughhhhh…_**

"Ugh," Beca verbally echoes her frustrated thoughts. And she'd had the perfect outfit planned for this drive too; her favorite pair of dark purple skinny jeans-because they made her ass look _fantastic_\- and a sparkly turquoise tank top-because Stacy assured her it was cute and girly and boys liked that shit- with her best push up bra-because, well, boobs.

Well, she'd at least worn the bra. So her boobs were somewhat noticeable under her oversized grey sweater. But she'd had to substitute her skinny jeans for a pair of warmer, and subsequently less ass-fantasticifying, jeans. Maybe this was for the best? She'd had this idea of confessing to him for weeks-Okay…maybe months- and she still had no idea what to say or how to say it. Beca was a girl of few words and fewer actions, lacking confidence and preferring to watch others, like her out going and out spoken cousin Stacy, do and say the things she wished she could.

"I'll call AAA and see if we can get a tow to the cabin," she hears Jesse sigh and Beca bites the inside of her cheek and wills herself to not stare at his crotch while he shifts, arching his back to lift his pelvis up enough to pull his phone and wallet from his back pocket. Beca feels a shudder wrack her body hard enough that Jesse cocks an eye brow and stares at her.

"It's fucking cold," she says to him. And it's true. It is cold in the car, despite the heater blowing. But her cheeks are pink and the tips of her ears burn with her lie.


	2. Chapter 2

It's 5:40 pm when Jesse finally thanks his insurance agent and pulls the phone away from his ear. Beca stops searching through the radio stations for decent music-wishing for the 589,745,922nd time that her car had more than a shitty tape deck and a barely functional radio- and turns her azure eyes to the boy in the passenger seat.

"So, the tow truck should be here in, like, four hours. Five, Max," he sighs, pressing End on his phone. Beca stares at him.

"Four hours?" she repeats.

"Five, Max," he confirms, setting his phone on the dashboard before ripping his beanie off his head, raking his fingers through his hair, and then pulling it sloppily back on again.

"Four...hours...what are we gonna do for four fucking hours?" Beca can't even make herself sit through a two hour movie, what the fuck is she going to do for four FUCKING HOURS IN HER CAR IN THE COLD IN THE _MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE_?

"Oh, I can think of a couple things the two of us could do." **_Does he mean...?! _**Beca isn't proud the squeak that escapes her lips as his words register in her brain. She feels her mouth drop and pieces of her dark hair swing in her face as she whirls her head around to stare at Jesse. Could it be that maybe he had feelings for her as-"Jesus, I'm just kidding Becs," he chuckles, and Beca tries not to concentrate on the way her chest feels like it's about to cave in. She feels her mouth snap shut.

Of course he doesn't feel that way about her. They've known each other for way too long. Beca is totally not his type. She and Jesse were going to two different states for college. Reason after reason for why Jesse couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for her worm their way into her brain... She feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Well, of course he was joking. She _obviously_ knows that...

"Car sex is the worst, anyway."

"Pfft! Like you would know," she scoffs, looking out the front window because right now looking at _him_ makes her heart hurt. She hears Jesse cough and clear his throat but she doesn't turn to face him. Four hours? The sun would set in two...

"I know what this party needs," Jesse says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, calling Beca's attention back to him as he shifts and maneuvers himself until his knees are in his seat and he is able to lean through the gap between his seat and Beca's shoulder-**_Ohmygod his hip is totally rubbing up against my shoulder_**!-and reach into the back of the car. She hears him unzipping his bag and tries to control the racing of her heart when she looks over to where his body is pressed against her and sees where his flannel shirt and the t shirt beneath it have ridden up on his hip and his smooth skin is showing…like, only four inches away from her face…if she were to turn her head a little more-

"Jesse, what the fuck are you doing?" she demands as sounds of ripping reach her ears. His immediate answer is a small grunt, followed by more tearing sounds.

"I'm-ugh, shit-getting...this!" He is triumphant, brown eyes sparkling in a way that has her swallowing hard and feeling like fifty million butterflies are swarming in her belly, when he finally sits back down in his seat. She rips her gaze away from his eyes, getting the fluttery feeling back under control, and focuses on what he is holding up for her to see. Two bottles of Bud Lite in one hand and a pack of cards in the other. "We can totally play poker until the tow truck gets here!" Beca stares at him. She blinks twice before sighing in annoyance.

"Jesse, you know I suck at poker." His smile sharpens into something more like a smirk and the stupid butterflies start their shit in her stomach again.

"Even better! How about Strip Poker?" As much as she yearned would like to see Jesse sans clothing, she knew that the likelihood of winning against him, who happened to be a pretty exceptional poker player, was pretty much zilch. At most, he would probably lose a sock and she would be stark naked.

"How about a rousing game of Go Fish and I won't sack tap you for making such a lame excuse to see my tits," she growls, taking one of the beers from him. Twisting the cap off with practiced ease, she brings the bottle to her lips and tips the end up to drink.

"Are you implying that if I find a good enough reason, you'll show me your boobs, Beca?" His voice is nonchalant, but Beca feels her throat constricting at his words and she chokes on the warm three point beer and comes up sputtering and coughing, looking at Jesse in disbelief.

"No way, Swanson, you perv!" she manages to stammer in between her gasps for oxygen. Her face is probably scarlet. Hell, it's probably fucking fuchsia, in her embarrassment. She should be used to his jokes by now...well, she is used to them, he's been making joking suggestions about Beca flashing her tits since they… blossomed… in ninth grade…but it still flusters her, makes her think weird thoughts about whether or not her tits are pretty, or if he would like them, or what he would do if she actually showed him, or what she would do if she actually showed him, or is he asking because he likes her or because he likes tits... She shakes her head to clear her thoughts. **_Fuck, this is gonna be a long four hours..._**


	3. Chapter 3

It's 6:50 pm and at this rate, Beca and Jesse will be drunk by the time tow truck arrives. She grunts with the effort of having to turn the crank to roll her window down before tossing her bottle to go join its three brethren that have gone before it.

"No more," she huffs, rolling her window back up. **_Or I might say...or do something I can't take back_**, she adds silently.

"Don't tell me you're drunk after only three beers, Becs," Jesse teases and Beca can't keep from staring at his mouth and watching the way his breath plumes from his lips...his soft...totally kissable lips..."Earth to Beca!"

"Huh?" She shakes her head and forces her eyes to meet Jesse's russet irises.

"I asked if you have any sixes," He laughs. "Jesus, did you have a stroke?" Beca feels her lips purse in annoyance, before looking at the cards in her hand. Grumbling about assholes and their unbelievable luck at card games, she plucks the six of Clubs she holds and hands it over to Jesse while taking stock of her remaining cards.

She is losing. Badly. Three rounds and she hasn't won a single time. **_Of course, maybe if I could actually focus on the game instead of-Oo, I only need one more eight! I'll ask if he's got any of those on my next turn! _**

"Do you want another beer?" She hears him ask, his voice sounding rough, and she slowly raises her eyes to meet his. Jesse is staring at her, his eyes looking somewhat unfocused.

"No...I'm fine," she assures him. She keeps her voice quite, barely a murmur. There is a shift in the atmosphere, Beca can feel it. She watches Jesse blink and shake his head. He clears his throat and turns his attention back to his cards.

Silence. Jesse is staring so hard at his cards that Beca is sure they are going to catch fire. "Jess," she calls quietly and he seems to startle at her voice.

"Hm?" He's looking up at her once more and, once more, his eyes seem to lose focus when they light upon her face.

"It's still your turn," she reminds him.

"What? Oh...uh...do you have any sixes?"

"You just asked that, dork," she laughs and she could swear that she can see his cheeks pink slightly in the dying sunlight. He looks back down at his cards.

"Oh. Yeah...do you have any...twos?"

"Go fish."


	4. Chapter 4

It's 7:25 pm, it started snowing twenty minutes ago, and Beca is trying desperately to keep a straight face while she is teasing Jesse.

"You want to major in Film History? What can you even do with that kind of Degree?"

"Oh, like it's any worse than British Literature? What the hell can you do with _that_ degree?" he counters, snorting. She watches him scratch at the nape of his neck, a habit he has when he is flustered, and she wonders just how it would feel to thread her fingers through the hair there. **_Jesus, down, girl,_** she tells herself, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She sighs and leans back against the driver's side door and pulling her knees to her chest. She isn't drunk, but the three beers she drank have left her feeling somewhat loosey-goosey in her limbs and tingly her brain, so Beca supposes that she is sufficiently buzzed. She suspects that Jesse is in much the same boat a she is, though he has not touched the other half of his fourth beer. A particularly hard gust of wind makes the car rock slightly and Beca swears the temperature drops another degree inside the cab. She tries to pull her coat more tightly around her to keep her body warm, and mutters curses about the cold for the nth time.

"First, who said that I was gonna major in British Lit? And second, it's way more useful that Film History!" Jesse scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned forward over the center consol.

"Becs, you've been spouting about wanting to major in that since we were sixteen," Jesse chuckles, leaning back against the passenger door, pulling his left knee up to his chest.

"Yeah, well...Dad said he wouldn't pay for a frivolous degree...so I'm gonna be majoring in Business...with a minor in Literature."

"Seriously? That sucks. Your dad is a dick."

"Yeah, well...he means well," Beca sighs. She lets her eyes wander to the windshield, where the flakes are lazily falling from the sky. It's almost completely dark now, the sun's rays making their final stand in the very far western horizon. She finds herself sighing again, turning her gaze to her cold fingers, peeking out from the sleeves of her coat. "Remember when we talked Benji into taking the keys to his dad's brand new Jeep to go mudding out at the lake and we got stuck in that giant puddle?" Beca laughs at Jesse's giggle.

"That was completely your fault," he tells her, shaking his head. Beca snorts her indignation. This is an old disagreement between them.

"It was _so_ not my fault! It looked like a regular puddle! Just like the other fifty mud puddles we'd splashed through. How the hell was I supposed to know it was a four foot deep, micro lake?" Jesse only laughs harder, his voice rising in pitch.

"Ben's dad was so mad!" Jesse wheezes out and Beca begins to giggle as well.

"His face was a purple and he couldn't even use complete sentences, hahahaha!" It's a few minutes before she and Jesse get their laughter under control. Beca sighs, glancing back out at the snow drifting in the wind outside. "I'm gonna miss this," she admits quietly.

"What? Being stuck in the mud on spring break and freezing our balls off in your shitty car?" Jesse scoffs. Beca rolls her eyes but feels the corners of her mouth pull up into a small smile.

"No," she tells him. "This. Talking with you, hanging out with you. Making half-baked plans with you and Stacy and Benji. After this summer, we're all going to different colleges and…the worst part of it is gonna be not getting to see Stacy or Benji...or you." She brings her hands up to her mouth to blow on her fingers. Her breath billows out through the chilled air to splash over her cold digits. She looks over wistfully at the keys in her ignition. They've only just turned the car off ten minutes ago to conserve her gas and battery- alternating between running the car, with its shotty heating, and shivering in the cold every thirty minutes-but already Beca wants to turn it back on so she can complain about the luke warm air blowing from her vents.

She squeaks in surprise when Jesse's large hands envelope her own, and her eyes fly to his face as he pulls them to his mouth to puff his warm breath over her cold digits. Beca can feel heat spreading from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her hair, and she thinks distantly that the cause has nothing to do with Jesse's breath on her digits.

"That's probably the closest you're gonna get to admitting how you feel about me." It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and when her brain finally registers their meaning Beca feels her jaw drop. She can only stare silently while he chuckles at her.

"Wh-how...I mean...I don't-uh, I-" she's floundering, her words catching and tripping over her useless tongue. Jesse blows on her fingers again, looking up at Beca through the dark fringe of his lashes, and Beca thinks she can feel her brain fracturing. Is she hallucinating? Has the cold finally gotten her? Was this what happened in the last stages of hypothermia?

"You know, telling Stacy any kind of secret is a terrible idea," he tells her. "Your cousin has the biggest mouth in school." Realization that her big mouthed cousin sold her out helps bring Beca's malfunctioning neurons back in order.

"So it would seem," she growls, finally regaining the use of her tongue. Jesse laughs.

"So, I've been waiting for your confession ever since so that I could tell you that I like you too-like, a lot, by the way- but you are the biggest chicken shit I've-"

Suddenly, Beca's mouth was slanting over Jesse's lips-**_Jesus, they're so fucking soft, oh my god_**-before her brain had registered that she had lunged forward, over the center console, over Jesse's lap and grabbed his face with both hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**The next installment is here! Fear not, the rest of this story is finished and I am in the process of getting it ready to post. It's just been so much longer than I wanted between updates for this fic (please, don't even get me started about the length of time between updates on my other ones...) so I decided to post this bit.**

Beca no longer knows what time it is and she can't bring herself to give a fuck about anything besides Jesse, and his mouth, and his tongue, and his hands. All she knows is that Jesse's kisses have grown hungry, more demanding. No longer where their lips moving in slow, exploratory and gentle movements. He has mapped the terrain of Beca's kiss and already conquered what he had found.

It's only when she pulls her head back to pull air into her screaming lungs, allowing Jesse to switch his attention to her neck, that she realizes she has moved from the driver's seat into his lap. Just when, exactly, had she moved into his lap? Had he pulled her there or had she actually been bold enough to cross the center console herself to straddle Jesse's hips?

A sudden chill to the skin of her abdomen brings her attention to the fact that Jesse was tugging the front of her sweater-Jesus _Fuck_, why had she thought wearing this stupid, over-sized, bulky, circus tent of a sweater was a good idea?- up, slowly and Beca watches in growing mortification at how much grey material is bunching up around her waist. With an annoyed growl, she deftly tears her coat and her sweater up and off of her torso, leaving her in her plain, so not sexy white undershirt and her favorite purple bra. Beca tries not to think too hard about the fact she is wearing her powder blue boy shorts which _so_ do not match her bra.

She is wishing she had taken the time to shave that morning- and seconds away from freaking out over the fact that her legs might possibly be stubbly-**_Oh my God, why do I never plan ahead? But really, what kind of person actually plans for this kinda shit?-_** when Jesse slips his hands beneath the hem of her shirt to trace his chilled fingers along the smooth expanse of her stomach. Beca gasps again, letting her head fall back and feeling goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch, as still his hands continued upwards, her shirt rising with them. When she feels his hands stop she looks back down at him.

Jesse's face is flushed, and his eyes are wide-pupils blown out in his excitement as he looks up at her. "Can I?" he asked, his voice is rough and the sound of it sends shivers racing down Beca's spine. She nodded slowly, swallowing down her nerves.

Jesse pushes her shirt up, pausing to release the front clasp. He stills his hands, looking up at Beca again for reassurance. She nods quickly, her heart pounding and her blood rushing so loudly in her ears she fears she may go deaf. She wonders why she's so nervous, it's not like she's never gotten to second base before. Of course, it had only been one other time before this, at a party, and she'd been drunk-so, _so_ drunk-and Beca had refused to remove her bra...

She watches as Jesse slowly pulls each cup away from her breasts. She feels his breath splash across her chest and hears his whispered "Wow," as he exhales. She barely manages to tamp down the nervous giggle threatening to burst from her trembling lips.

"Congrats, Swanson, you finally got to see my tits." The sarcastic retort has left her mouth before she can think better of it, and after the words fall from her lips, Beca feels better. The air no longer feels quite so heavy, and Jesse exasperated sigh brings some normality to the situation.

"Shh, don't ruin this for me," he grumbles, and she watches, her breath hitching as Jesse reaches both hands out to cup her breasts. She gasps, because his hands are cold and because no one has really touched them skin to skin before. It feels…**_It feels….it feels weird…this is awkward…what is so amazing about this?_** she wonders, looking down at Jesse's hands. She had expected fireworks…she had expected, well, she isn't completely sure what she had expected…but every trashy romance novel she had ever read had built this situation up in her mind as some sort of mind blowing experience, second only to having an actual orgasm… Beca wonders if there is something wrong with her, because having her boobs squeezed is more off-putting than-

"Oh _wow_," she pants when Jesse suddenly leans forward and flicks his tongue across one of her pebbled nipples. She gasps when he does it again and brings her hands to Jesse's head. Suddenly, Beca no longer feels awkward, even with her undershirt and her bra smashed under her arm pits, and her non matching panties. In fact, as Jesse's hands slide to her back and pull her closer so that he can more easily take her peaked nipple into his mouth, sucking and tonguing it savagely, Beca feels pretty fucking great. She groans loudly, pulling his hat off of his head so that she can thread her fingers into his unruly hair.

Beca isn't sure how making out and pawing at each other has led to this. Her elbows protest as she leans back, propping them on the dash, as Jesse is easing her jeans and panties over her hips and down her thighs. She's not even sure that undressing was a conscious decision between the two of them-it's not like they'd had a discussion about whether or not to keep their pants on. But, sometime between Jesse relishing second base and Beca reaching her own hands down his jeans to grasp and tug at third base, the need to remove their denim hindrance became apparent. Which was strange, Beca was still wearing her undershirt and her unclasped bra.

She swallows thickly, watching Jesse pull her jeans off of her completely. She is still leaning back against the dash, her position impossibly lewd now that her jeans are gone, when she feels his hands gliding up her thighs. She squeaks her protest when they slide under her, gripping her ass and lifting her pelvis up higher as he leans over her body.

"Wh-what are you doing?" her voice is higher in pitch than she would like it to be, but her nervousness is making it hard for her to control the timbre. It's only after he has pressed a kiss to her hip that he answers.

"Sorry," he murmurs against her skin. "I've been fantasizing about this for so long, I kinda forgot to ask…is this ok?" Her breath hitches and she can feel her cheeks burning.

"Fantasizing about what?" she askes quietly, watching as he kisses the inside of her thigh.

"About going down on you." Oh. _Oh._ He looks up at her and she knows that he is waiting for her to give her okay. They are officially a good ten paces past the farthest Beca has ever gotten, sexually speaking. Her body is trembling from nerves and the strain of holding this particular position. Was she really ready for this? Did she want to do this right now? If she said no, would she ever get another chance? "It's okay, if you don't want to," he says to her, lowering her pelvis back down. "I'm totally fine just doing what we've been doing."

**_Of course, he's this fucking considerate, _**she grumbles to herself. But her heart swells with affection any ways, and she remembers that that was one of the things she loved about him. Jesse had never been one to pressure anyone into anything they didn't want.

"It's okay," she breathes and she watches as his pupils dilate.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he tells her, his gravelly voice setting her heart racing harder as he raises her back up. **_Oh, yeah, sure_**, she snorts to herself. **_Because it's not like we haven't officially reached the point of saying 'Just kidding, I've changed my mind,' without it being totally awkward_**. But, suddenly Beca begins to doubt her decision. **_What if he doesn't like it? What if _**I **_ don't like it? What if it feels weird? What if I taste bad? What if-_**

Beca's mind goes blank when Jesse's tongue makes an experimental sweep of her sex. She's sure she made some kind of noise, because he is looking up at her face, staring heatedly, and flexing his tongue to do it again. **_Holy fuck…that feels…_** when the tip of his tongue catches against her clit, Beca is beyond the point of coherent thoughts and caring about the desperate noises coming from her mouth. All she cares about, all she can focus on is the heat from his tongue and the way it sends sparks shooting through her body. And all she wants is for him to keep doing it, keep making her body shudder in pleasure, keep pushing her towards the edge, please for the love of God-

"Don't stop! Fuck…don't stop!"

**Don't hate me! *evil laughter***


	6. Chapter 6

**Ah, yes...finally, the next installment. For those that follow me on Twitter: I promised this update tonight and I am so happy that I could deliver. Also, this is not the final chapter, I have one more that will follow almost immediately. I know the chapters are short, but I have kind of enjoyed making these small 'snap shot' updates. Thank you to all who have read and reviewed and faved and followed. It's so Amazing that there are others that actually seem to enjoy the crap I write!**

**With out further ado:**

It's ten minutes, or maybe ten fucking years, later and Beca is sitting, slumped over in Jesse's lap, her for head resting on his shoulder, panting and still shivering from the effects of her orgasm. Jesse's warm palms running up and down her back do nothing to quell her tremors, in fact she suspects that they're only making them worse.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly. **_Fucking amazing. Fucking fantastic. My God, I don't think I've ever felt so fucking great. That was great. _**You're **_ great. Everything is just fucking…great! Would it be weird if I said thank you? I kind of feel like I should…because that was…_**

"Can't…words…now," she mumbled between her panting breaths. His laugh is a snort and Beca is certain she can feel him blushing.

"You're shivering. Are you sure you're okay?" Was she okay? Jesus, Beca wasn't sure when she had ever felt so good. 'Don't stop!' she had commanded, and Jesse had obeyed. Once she had finally gotten out of her own head and allowed herself to simply feel-and fucking enjoy-her body had raced towards the zenith of her pleasure. She'd never came so hard, so loudly before. And now, here she was, still trembling.

"It's so cold," she laughs nervously, glad that her face was hidden from his view so that he couldn't see her pink cheeks.

"I know something that will keep you warm," he jokes and Beca can hear the nerves in his own voice. Her heart tripped over itself, the racing tempo stuttering momentarily in her chest. Her cheeks burn hotter.

"Ok," she breathes. The words are heavy as the fall from her lips and drop with her breath to the collar of his shoulder. His shiver makes her feel better knowing that he was just as affected as she was.

"Seriously?" Beca nods. "I…uh-wow…I didn't think that line would actually work outside of a Penthouse story." His laugh is nervous and she can feel the corners of her mouth pull up into a smile. She finally sits back to look at him and sees the look of awe in his warm eyes. Suddenly, his face falters and she's sees his shoulders slump.

"What? What's wrong? Do you not want to?" she asks quickly, ignoring the pang in her chest.

"I…uh…," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I don't have any condoms. I wasn't exactly planning for this to happen tonight. But, I mean, really-who plans for this kinda stuff? Except, maybe Stacy, but-" He's rambling. Jesse does this when he's embarrassed. It makes her feel better, somehow, to know that she isn't the only one who feels nervous. She presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, effectively shutting him up. When she pulls back, Jesse is staring at her.

"I've…um, I've been on the pill since eighth grade," she says gently, and she giggles as she sees hope return to his gaze.

"So, we can…um…"

"Yeah."

Beca's heart is pounding, she can hardly hear over the sound of it and her heavy breathing. There is some shifting, readjusting in Jesse's lap and holding herself up so that he can hold his…_thing…__**Penis, Beca. You're about to have sex, you should at least be able to think the word…penis…member…ugh…this is so embarrassing…**_

****"Are you ready?" She looks up into his eyes. "Beca?" She nods. She's ready. She is _so _ready. Maybe…

She feels his hand against her core, fingers rubbing and teasing her, and she gasps because she's still so sensitive after what he did with his tongue and it feels so good. She feels him slip a digit inside of her and then another, curling them and making her groan and tremble some more. And then, his fingers are gone from her. She looks down and watches as he coats himself with her juices and wonders why.

"Lubrication," Jesse explains. Her confusion must have shown. "So it'll be easier to…y'know." She nods and then, closing her eyes and taking a breath, she begins to lower herself onto him. She feels the tip of him brush against her, but not in the right place. Sighing, she opens her eyes, and looks down so that she can see what the fuck she is doing. She reaches her hand down and grasps him, pulling a gasp from his lips, and holds him at the right angle. **_Lets try this again…_**

****She presses down and feels him pressing up…against her. There is a moment of resistance and then suddenly-

"Ow_fuck_!"

It hurts. It hurts! She can feel herself stretching around him and it feels weird and foreign and it fucking HURTS and-

"Beca, are you okay?"

"Shut up, I'm fine." **_I'm fine…I can do this…I can fucking do this…I just-_**

****"I said I'm fine," she growls. She clenches her jaw and forces herself to push down more. Two whimpers and one mortifying squeak later, Beca is ready to consider giving up. She is angry at herself and feels like the biggest fucking failure on earth and there are tears gathering behind her clamped eyelids and there must be something wrong with her, with her body, because how is it so hard just to get Jesse's dick inside of her, he probably thinks there is something wrong with her too and…and…

His lips are on hers, swallowing her pained breaths, and his thumbs are sweeping away the wetness gathering along her lashes.

"We can stop, Beca," she hears his whisper and feels his breath against her mouth. She sighs heavily.

"I don't want to," she huffs, refusing to open her eyes. "It just hurts." Jesse kisses her again. Deeply, forcefully, pulling a groan from her lips, and she can feel his fingers against her core, rubbing her clit. Her body begins to tingle and she can feel heat gathering at her core. After a few moments, she realizes that the pain is beginning to fade a little. Light headed and breathing heavily as Jesse begins nipping at her throat, Beca decides it's now or never. She presses down once more, finding to her relief that-despite feeling stretched-there is considerably less pain as Jesse is finally, _finally,_ fully seated inside of her. **_Fucking finally_**, she sighs in relief.

"Wow." She hears him groan. She kinda feels like echoing him. Feeling Jesse inside of her is so new a different from how she'd imagined it. It still kind of hurt but there was a heaviness, a pressure that hinted of pleasure. She finally opened her eyes and straightened up in his lap, leaning back to look at Jesse. When their eyes met she felt a swell of affection, more than a crush, more than lust, more than the love of a longtime friend. It made her heart race and made her want to say stupid things like "thank you for being my first time" or "I fucking care about you _so_ much". She felt like laughing. She felt like throwing her head back and crowing her exultations to the shabby roof of her car. She did none of those things. Instead, she drew in a breath and lifted her elf up slightly before pressing herself down in Jesse.

"Fuck," she hisses at the dragging sensation, quaking at the feeling of him moving inside her and the way he filled her so completely. Her face was flushed again, heart racing, blood roaring in her ears as she did it again. Jesse is grunting, one eye squeezed shut as he desperately tries to keep looking at her.

"How…how does it feel?" he asks and Beca nearly laughs.

"F-feels" awkward-amazing-slightly painful "good," she tells him. She drew herself up again and allowed gravity to pull her down. "How does it…feel to you?"

She watches as he opens both eyes, his mouth parted as he pants, and he brings his hands to cup her face.

"You feel fucking amazing," he tells her before pulling her close enough to kiss. She moves against him again, keeping their lips locked together. Their movements are hesitant, still learning how to move together, but each press gets better and each pant gets louder and Beca thinks that this is the most perfect way to lose her virginity…if only her left knee wasn't being smashed against the stupid buckle of Jesse's seatbelt. Really, it was starting to get hard to ignore…

Her discomfort must have shown, because he pulled his mouth away to look at her in worry.

"Beca, does it still hurt?"

"Huh?"

"You're…you look like you're in pain."

"Oh, that's just because this fucking belt buckle is digging into my knee and it's starting to hurt." They both look down at the offending safety feature.

"Here…turn around," he tells her, and Beca stares at him blankly, not understanding.

"What?"

"Turn around. Put your back to me, let's try it that way."

"Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of what we're doing?"

"Just trust me on this."


	7. Chapter 7

**Here it is, the final installment and OMIGOSH I finally fucking finished a fucking story! Thankyouthankyouthankyou for sticking with me, even when I wasn't updating!**

**And thank you again to Nora for this little prompt; it was so fun! And, can I say how odd it is to be writing a story about it being cold and snowy while it was sunny and 80 degrees on my sunny porch?!**

**Here it is, I hope you enjoy it! Lemme know what you think!**

It's 7:52 pm, as Beca's gaze lands momentarily on the dash clock, when she finally starts feeling like sex is something more than just awkward movements. She is using muscles she has never really had occasion to use, the muscles of her thighs burning from lifting herself up and down Jesse's length. It's only when she rolls her hips for the first time, after Jesse strokes something deep inside her that has her keening in pleasure, that she learns that sex is more than just moving up and down. In fact, simply rolling her hips seems to feel better, result in more delicious friction, than simply impaling herself over and over again. And judging by Jesse's groan behind her and the way he was gripping her hips like she was the only thing anchoring him to this world, it feels pretty good to him as well.

"Do…do that again, Becs," he grunts, leaning forward to mold against her back. The desperation in his tone sends goosebumps rising along her flesh and she hurries to comply. She moves her hands from where they had taken residence on the dash to brace herself on his knees, rolling her hips again and grinding down against him. Beca is seeing stars, and the uncomfortable stretching feeling is finally gone. Jesse is panting in her ear and her breaths are chasing his as they move.

Something is building inside of her, like a spring gradually being coiled more tightly. Every movement, every glide of slick flesh, every grind of their hips adding fuel to the fire within her, and Beca can't stop the loud pants and strangled moans from escaping her as she is writhing in Jesse's lap. She feels his hands release their grip on her hips and is aware of her body shuddering as one hand glides up under her shirt to cup her breast, teasing her nipple. Beca bites her lip, feeling her pleasure inside her leap up a few notches, and reaches a hand of her own to thread through his hair.

His lips are on the flesh of her shoulder, teeth scraping and breath puffing heavily, and Beca feels herself tilting back as he is leaning back against his seat. This new angle…

"F-fuck," she gasps, her eyes shooting open to stare up at the roof of her car. She can't move her hips as well, but Jesse is thrusting up into her and his other hand is between her legs teasing her clit, and suddenly that pressure is exploding with in her. Distantly, she hears him grunt as the back of her head slams into his shoulder, her legs are lifting and curling up and her voice is loud as she shouts incoherently.

Jesse is relentless, and he isn't stopping, the hand palming her tit moving lower so that he can hook his arm around the back of her knees, pulling them against her chest, and he is still pistoning in and out of her, left hand still between her thighs. Her nerves are on fire, still riding the high of her pleasure, and Jesse's heavy pants and grunts behind her as she is held at his mercy quickly send her reeling back towards the precipice of another orgasm.

Both of her hands are in Jesse's hair, fingers curling and pulling at his unruly locks. This time, Jesse comes with her, groaning loudly as she shouts. The air is filled with their heavy breaths and, as Jesse releases her legs, Beca realizes she is covered in a sheen of sweat and unbearably hot.

"Fuck," Jesse grunts behind her. "Can we roll down the window, or something?"

"Mmff," Beca mumbled, reaching blindly to feel for the handle. "Can't reach," she groaned after failing to grab it, and she felt Jesse laugh beneath her.

"Fuck it, at least we're not cold anymore."

* * *

It's _9:25 pm_ when Beca and Jesse notice headlights behind them. The windows are no longer fogged up and their clothing no longer askew/unfasted/bunched up/pulled down. But Jesse's lips are still swollen from Beca's kisses, and Beca is tugging the collar of her sweater to better cover the marks left from Jesse's mouth.

"Jesus…has it already been four hours?" she asks incredulously.


End file.
